The Quest for Chelsembyr
by steave
Summary: Based on an actual D&D campaign, three heroes set out on an adventure that could change Faerun itself. We start with a village under attack, and three heroes arise to save it.


The Quest for Chelsembyr

by Steave

CHAPTER 1

Dornovan awoke to the sounds of bells ringing. Not the bells carried on wagons, caravans, or just bells, but like one great bell. A warning bell. Something was here.

He threw himself from his bed, hurridly attaching his chainmail to his body. After fitting his helmet and shield, he grabbed his warhammer and heavy mace, and rushed outside. His holy symbol of Torm was hitting him in the chest with every rushed step he took.

Dornovan almost ran straight through the door of the inn, trying to get to the destruction he was sure that was being caused as fast as he could. When he was finally outside, the sight he witnessed was not what he was ready for.

The buildings were set aflame, at least, most of them had been. The village was under attack by Ogres, Orcs, and Goblins. Men and women, civilians, were fleeing the streets, only to be cut down by an Orc or shot by a Goblin. There was, however, resistance in the center of the village. Some of the village militia were defending the citizens, others were defending themselves.

"Torm guide me," was all that Dornovan could mutter. He ran towards the resistance.

--

Tokamata Cortez II was born ready for something like this. He was throwing his bastard sword into each of his enemies mercilessly, killing in the name of his deity, Torm. He was awakened by the warning bells as everyone else was. The attack had caught all of them off guard, but he would fight to the end, even if it meant death.

A woman screamed, caught up against the corner of a building facing an Orc. Cortez lobbed off the head of his current adversary, a puny little goblin, and sprinted to the Orc. It had her by the throat and was going to run his sword straight through her pretty neck.

The Orc wailed, and Cortez smashed into it, shield first. It stumbled and rolled on the dirt, lying in a heap on the ground.

"I'll get you out of here, just hold on."

Cortez was not only reassuring the woman, but reassuring himself. The Orc was up, and obviously quite upset. It roared and screamed, getting ready to charge at Cortez.

"Torm save us all." Cortez said this only so he could hear it. The Orc charged.

--

He had been known by many names, but right now, names didn't matter. Only one thing mattered, the battle.

He had come to the village the night before, seeking shelter and shadows. What he found instead was Orcs, Goblins, and Ogres. His most favorite of enemies. He had taken down 20 already, this is what he killed for pleasure.

The man let loose another arrow, perfectly finding its place in between the eyes of a Goblin. What were these creatures doing in a village? This question wasn't as puzzling as the next one. Why were they aligned with one another?

If he had known any better, the Orcs would be killing two Goblins for every Human it killed. He watched as the two races, goblinoids and orcs would kill, and sometimes join together, to take down some of the humans.

Puzzling as this was, he was forced from his train of thought when, what appeared to be a shortspear, crashed into the building next to him. It was now sticking out of the wall, and all he could think was "Great, now they have javelin throwers." He turned his head to the direction of where the shortspear came from, only not to find an Orc throwing javelins. Instead, he saw an Ogre, with a bow shooting spear-sized arrows at him.

"You've got to be kidding me," the man said, standing in utter amazement of this Ogre archer. Then, the Ogre, let loose another arrow/spear.

--

Dornovan fought his way to the center of the town, crushing skulls and ribcages of Orc and Goblin alike. One came at him with a shortsword, lunging to tear out his intestines. Instead, Dornovan only sidestepped, effortlessly, and with a quick swing of his right arm, his mace crushed through the Goblin's head, projecting brain and pieces of skull across the ground. He continued to walk towards the center of town.

The battle was turning, for every villager that was killed, 3 more creatures were obliterated. Dornovan could only smile at the knowledge that the village would be saved. This only made him battle harder, throwing his shield and mace alike into any who got in his way.

"Thank Torm."

--

Cortez could do only one thing, put up his shield.

The Orc bull-rushed head and shoulder first in Cortez's shield, knocking them both down in the process. The only thing between Cortez and the Orc was his shield, bearing the holy symbol of Torm.

The Orc snarled and spat, covering Cortez's face in drool and snot. He screamed and smashed the hilt of his bastard sword into the side of the beast's face. They both then rolled on their sides and quickly stood up, ready to go again.

The two warriors came at each other, swords singing through the air. The woman whom Cortez had saved only moments earlier looked on in horror. She wanted to scream for Cortez, but didn't. The last thing she wanted was for him to get distracted and killed.

They swung and parried, blocked and punched. This Orc was definately one of the commanders if not the commander of this raid. They finally locked swords, now in a power struggle. Cortez knew that this monster was stronger than him. He couldn't give up, not now.

Then, as if in perfect harmony, he could feel his muscles begin to grow, and he became stronger. This must've been the work of Torm. He threw the Orc's sword to the ground, and gutted the beast, spilling his entrails and staining the ground. Thankfully, the beast didn't feel the warmth of his insides leaving his body, it died on connection with the sword.

He then turned to find a tall, proud, and dominating man standing no more than 5 feet from him. The man wore chainmail, and one of his gauntlets had something written on it that Cortez couldn't understand. He wore a helmet, which concealed his hair and head, but not his face. His eyes were a green and he wore a goatee. He held a mace in one hand, and a shield in the other. His armor and mace were covered in the green blood of his fallen foes.

"It's always nice to meet a fellow worshipper of Torm."

"You worship Torm as well?"

He tugged on a silver chain, and pulled it out from underneath his mail. Hanging on the chain was the gauntlet of Torm.

"Were you the one who did that?"

"If you mean increase your strength, yes. We will have time for questions and tales later, until then, we have a battle to win."

The woman rushed to Cortez and embraced him. She gave him a thanking kiss on the lips and ran off to safety. Cortez brushed his hands on his lips and then brought himself back to where he was. He then followed this man of Torm further into the battle.

--

Another Ogre-arrow was shot into the wall that the man was residing behind. There was no way that he could take this beast down from here. It was time for something drastic. He ran out from behind the building.

The Ogre had waited for something like this and shot again. Which was exactly what the man had wanted. He was running at full speed, making his hood fly off of his head, revealing a beautiful young man with ears pointed at the tips. This was no man, it was an elf.

The elf placed his feet on the wall and began to run on the wall when the arrow should've crushed into his midsection. Instead, he reached out and grabbed the spear in midair. While running on the wall, he flipped the spear, turning its point towards the Ogre and threw it with all of his might. The desperation move had worked, the spear found itself imbedded into the Ogre's shoulder.

It screamed and pulled at the spear. Finally, it removed the weapon, and fitted it back onto his bow. The elf stood, flabbergasted. It let the arrow loose, and then the elf only knew darkness.


End file.
